the setting sun.
Late in the afternoon, just before the banquet, there came into the courtyard from the
deepening twilight outside an uninvited guest, who attracted the attention of all the others.
He was an emaciated-looking peasant, dressed in patched clothes and with unkempt hair,
carrying under his arm a paper-parcel. Greatly astonished and puzzled, the host went up to
inquire where he hailed from. While the newcomer was stammering, it suddenly occurred
to the host that this was none other than the skin dealer—the young woman’s husband.
Thereupon, the host said in a low voice,
“Why do you bring a gift? You really shouldn’t have done this!”
The newcomer looked timidly about, saying,
“I… I had to come…I’ve come to wish the baby a long life…”
Before he had finished speaking, he began to open the package he had brought.
Tearing off three paper wrappings with his quivering fingers, he took out four bronze-cast
and silver-plated Chinese characters, each about one square inch in size, which said that
the baby would live as long as the South Mountain.
The scholar’s wife appeared on the scene, and looked displeased when she saw the
skin dealer. The scholar, however, invited the skin dealer to the table, where the guests sat
whispering about him.
The guests wined and dined for two hours and everybody was feeling happy and
excited. They indulged in noisy drinking games and plied one another with big bowls of
wine. The deafening uproar rocked the house. Nobody paid any attention to the skin dealer
who sat silently after drinking two cups of wine. Having enjoyed their wine, the guests
each hurriedly took a bowl of rice; and, bidding one another farewell, they dispersed in
twos and threes, carrying lighted lanterns in their hands.
The skin dealer sat there eating until the servants came to clear the table. Then he
walked to a dark corner of the veranda where he found his wife.
“What did you come for?” asked the young woman with an extremely sad note in her
voice.
“I didn’t want to come, but I just couldn’t help it.”
“Then why did you come so late?”
“I couldn’t get any money to buy a birthday gift. I spent the whole morning begging
for a loan and then I had to go to town to buy the gift. I was tired and hungry. That’s why I
came late.”
The young woman asked, “How’s Chun Bao?”
Her husband reflected for a moment and then answered,
“It’s for Chun Bao’s sake that I’ve come…”
“For Chun Bao’s sake!” she echoed in surprise. He went on slowly,
“Since this summer Chun Bao has grown very skinny. In the autumn, he fell sick. I
haven’t been able to do anything for him because I haven’t had any money. So his illness is
getting more serious. I’m afraid he won’t live unless we try to save him!” he continued
after a short pause, “I’ve come to borrow some money from you. …”
Deep inside her, the young woman had the feeling that wild cats were scratching and ··文·檔·共·享·與·在·線·閱·讀·
biting her, gnawing at her very heart. She was on the verge of bursting into tears, but on
such an occasion when everybody was celebrating Qiu bao’s birthday she knew she had to
keep her emotions under control. She made a brave effort to keep back her tears and said to
her husband,
“How can I get hold of any money? They give me twenty cents a month as pocket
money here, but I spend every cent of it on my baby. What can we do now?”
Both were speechless for a while, then the young woman asked again,
“Who is taking care of Chun Bao while you’re here?”
“One of the neighbours. I’ve got to go back home tonight. In fact I ought to be going
now,” he answered, wiping away his tears.
“Wait a moment,” she told him tearfully, “let me go and try to borrow some money
from him.”
And with this she left him.
Three days later, in the evening, the scholar suddenly asked the young woman,
“Where’s the blue jade ring I gave you?”
“I gave it to him the other night. He pawned it.”
“Didn’t I lend you five dollars